


Black and Blue, Revisited

by Curlew



Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: Episode: s04e09 Black and Blue, Gen, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curlew/pseuds/Curlew
Summary: An attempt, only partially successful,  to make sense of Black and Blue. Please ignore plot holes - I did my best to seal them up, but it was a Herculean task! Hutch Angst. Hurt/Comfort. A new character, and a brief reappearance, as the voice of reason, of a character I have borrowed from another writer before. Thank you, K Hanna Korossy. And Joan Meredith. Such a shame we didn’t see more of her.My longest. It should take 30- 45 minutes to read. Give it a go!
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Black and Blue, Revisited

Starsky realized that there was no hope of stopping the speeding car, and ran back to Hutch’s heap, shoving his gun into his holster as he went. He called it in, knowing that the dreaded “officer down” would bring help as soon as humanly possible, grabbed the blanket and the first aid kit from the trunk and raced back into the neat suburban hallway where Hutch slumped, turning the beige carpet disconcertingly red.

“Hey, buddy, you still with me, huh?”

Hutch’s eyes opened a crack.

“Yeah”

K

“Well, you just stay with me. The paramedics’ll be here in five so we’ll leave the heavy stuff to them, but we do need to get some pressure on that hole in you before you completely wreck these folks’ carpet”

As he spoke, Starsky grabbed a sterile dressing, and put it over the wound and applied steady pressure. He could feel the blood pulsing against his hand as Hutch arched and gasped. His right hand scrabbled at Starsky’s leg before getting a hold and hanging on.

“H-how bad does it look?”

“Would you believe me if I said that it just caught your shoulder?”

Hutch’s eyes met his with a hint of his usual sardonic humor.

“No. Jesus, Starsk, when you said getting shot really hurts, you weren’t kidding”

“You could have just believed me, you didn’t have to find out for yourself. Stay with me, partner - you can sleep when the experts get here”

Hutch forced himself to stay conscious.

“Thought ..you..were just ....looking for ... attention. Holy shit, this hurts’

Starsky added another dressing- the first was soaked. Then another.

“Just hang on. Hard as you can - I don’t need that leg, I got another one”

“Starsk- I couldn’t pull the trigger. She was a kid. Just a kid. But now she’s a scared kid with a loaded gun......”

“Yeah, she was a kid. But, to quote someone close to me right now, a kid who was an armed felon and going to blow your head off. I’ve warned you before about that soft heart of yours- you need to toughen up a bit”

He brushed Hutch’s sweat soaked hair away from his eyes, registered the rapidly chilling skin and pulled the blanket up round him, then added the last dressing pad. When he moved his hand back up to cradle the icy, clammy cheek, Hutch leant into the warm fingers, and concentrated on the twin challenges of staying awake and breathing.

After what felt like an hour, but was actually only six minutes, the paramedics arrived, with their usual reassuring bustle. Starsky stepped back to give them room.

“Back in a moment, partner. Got to do some cop stuff”

One of the paramedics handed him a damp cloth.

“You might want to get the blood off your hands first - there are a lot of civilians out there”

“Thanks. How does he look?”

“Can’t say yet. He’s lost a lot of blood”

Starsky looked down at himself and realized that a lot of that blood was soaked into his clothes. The world rocked for a moment, and he felt strong hands supporting him.

“You need to sit down?”

“No-I’m OK”

“Sure? Even tough guys need to give themselves a break. Here’s some water”

The kindness was almost too much, but he pulled himself together, drank, then scrubbed at his hands with the towel.

“I’m fine - you take care of him, huh? He’s......one of the good guys”

“Count on it”

It soon became obvious to Starsky that there was no way he was going to be able to leave the scene in time to go to the hospital with Hutch. The crime lab van had only just arrived, there was a street full of excited onlookers and there was nobody senior or experienced enough among the uniforms to hand things over to. Grinding his teeth, he dashed back inside, and grabbed the arm of the friendly paramedic. 

“Hey, can you tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can?”

“Sure- But he’s unconscious now- and he’ll be in surgery a while.....”

“Tell him anyway. Please. It’s important”

“You got it”

For the next hour Starsky worked on automatic pilot. Then, suddenly, he had done all he could at the scene, and he was driving back to headquarters in Hutch’s car, very slowly and carefully, conscious of his fatigue. It seemed ridiculous that less than two hours ago they had been headed home, bickering, with nothing on their minds but breakfast and sleep. And now...

As he drove, he made a mental to do list. Call the hospital. Shower and change. Call the hospital. See what sort of statement he could get out of the kid. Call the hospital. Write his report. Go to the hospital and stay there. Oh,shit. And talk to Perkowitz. Starsky groaned. Dealing with Juvie was always Hutch’s job. Mostly because he cared a lot about what happened to children and young people - but a bit because of the slight torch he carried for the clever, sparky and extremely pretty Perkowitz. 

Back at HQ he hit the locker room, stripped, binned his clothes and showered, carefully not noticing the red tinged water swirling down the drain, then cobbled together an outfit from his and Hutch’s lockers. Calling the hospital yielded no information, and neither did his first meeting with the stubbornly silent Bruce. Deciding that leaving him to cool his heels in a holding cell might loosen his tongue, Starsky went up to his desk, called the hospital, fielded his co worker’s questions, filled Dobey in, wrote his report, called the hospital, then then ran downstairs to Perkowitz to see what she could tell him about two kids and a gun. 

She wasn’t alone- but Starsky barely noticed the woman sitting quietly in the visitor’s chair.

“What you got for me?”

“Nothing you’re going to want to hear. First, you need to meet....

The woman stood up and held out her hand “Joan Meredith. Friends call me Merry”

Starsky gave the hand a perfunctory shake.

“David Starsky. Anna-give”

“And friends call you?”

For the first time, Starsky turned to look at her.

“Why would you need to know that?”

For a long moment, her steady brown eyes regarded him.

“I don’t know about you, but I like to be friendly with the people I’m working with”

“Working with?

“I’m assigned to this case. Maybe Dobey forgot to mention it?”

“Ah, fuck. A fucking social worker. Look, lady, this is the attempted homicide of a police officer....’

“That’s Detective Sargent Meredith, Sargent Starsky. Not a lady. Not a fucking social worker. A fucking cop. And the fucking cop temporarily assigned to work with you. Whether you like it or not”

“I don’t. Give me information”

“OK. But as Anna says, you’re not going to like it. Bruce has been bailed”

‘He’s been WHAT?”

“You heard. Are you ready to listen?” She took his silence as assent and continued.

“Bruce and the girl you want have what is euphemistically called a Guardian. They steal for him. He looks after them. Simple as. That’s why he wouldn’t talk. He knew he wouldn’t have to hold out for long”

“So that’s it? He’s gone?” 

“Yes. And the chances of finding him- or her- are remote”

“Really? You’d better get looking, then. I got somewhere I need to be. You can use my desk- anyone will tell you which it is”

“Shouldn’t I be coming with you?

Starsky held her eyes for a long moment.

“Why?” And was gone.

Meredith let out a long breath

“He always like that?”

Anna shrugged.

“No. Never seen him like that- particularly with a pretty woman”

“He have a problem with my colour?”

“Definitely not. He might have a problem with your sex. And he definitely has a problem with you not being blond, six feet one, one hundred sixty five pounds and called Ken Hutchinson”

Neither snit nor charm got Starsky anywhere at the hospital. He was told to go home and when he refused, was shooed away to a waiting room with plastic chairs not designed for humans and a machine dispensing undrinkable coffee, which he drank. 

“You shouldn’t drink that- it’s bad for your bones”

“Excuse me?”

He hadn’t noticed the other occupant of the room - a very tiny, very old lady in red smiling at him from the corner.

“Your bones. That coffee will make them crumble. In 30 years you’ll know. Come and sit. Whatever the problem, standing won’t cure it. You don’t look sick”

“I’m not. I......”

‘Come and sit. Are you waiting for someone?”

Not sure why, he went to sit beside her, and let her take his hand.

“Yes. My friend- he’s been shot”

She turned his hand over, and stroked the palm. 

“He will be all right, your friend”

Starsky left his hand in hers, finding comfort in her touch.

“It’s a bad wound”

“Nevertheless.....”

A door opened.

“Mrs Green, we’re ready for you now”

She made to stand, but Starsky was reluctant to release her. She stroked his hair.

“I need to go. Do you hear me? He will be all right.”

He helped her to her feet and bent impulsively to kiss her cheek. There was a sweet, warm, spice smell about her, and an image of a kitchen table and two tiny dark haired boys swinging their legs, impatient for something on the stove to be ready flashed across his mind. He smiled, and she rested her hand on his head, murmuring something he could barely hear, then she was gone.

Unaccountably comforted, he sat down again and closed his eyes, letting himself doze, until quick light steps brought him back to full consciousness.

“Hi. Any news?”

It was the friendly paramedic from the morning.

“No. They won’t tell me anything. What are you doing here?”

“I like to check up on my transfers when I can. Want me to see if I can pull any favors? I’m Callum Anderson, by the way. Friends call me Cal”

Starsky shook the proffered hand.

“Hi Cal. I’m David Starsky. Dave. Or Starsky. Your choice. And yes please. This is killing me”

“I know. I got a partner too”

Cal was back in 10 minutes, his face serious.

“The good news- they’re as sure as they can be that he’ll be OK- but it’s been touch and go. He was stable when we transferred him” - even in his anxiety, Starsky couldn’t prevent a little grin of recognition at the unconscious arrogance of the emphasis- “but things went south once he got here and it took a while and a whole lot of blood to get him stable enough for surgery. They only took him down about ninety minutes ago. And there are a lot of important things in that quadrant of the chest, so getting the bullet out and fixing the damage is going to take another four- five hours minimum- they need to go slow and careful. So probably seven eight hours til you can see him”

Starsky puffed out his cheeks and let the breath out with a whoosh.

“You’re sure?”

“I caught one of the theatre nurses on a quick break. She’s a friend, and she knows what she’s talking about. Anyway, I ...”

He was about to take his leave, but hesitated. Then.

“Well, Dave, or Starsky - I can’t choose which yet - it’s one o’clock. Could you use a beer? Or a burger? Or both?

“A burger sounds good. Maybe rain check on the beer til I haven’t been pushing 24 hours without sleep”

They grinned at each other, and said, at the same moment.

“D’you know Huggy’s?”

Huggy’s was relatively quiet for a lunchtime, and their preferred booth was free. Starsky slid into it gratefully, and let himself relax.

‘I take it Blondie’s on the mend”

Starsky opened his eyes to find Huggy’s worried ones on him.  
“Still in surgery, Hug, but getting there - I have it on two good authorities. And here comes one of them now”

Cal slid into the booth, high fiving Huggy as he passed.

“Hey, this is a combo I’ve never seen before but I like it. Two specials?”

“That OK, Cal? And a beer and a coke. It’s on me”

“Won’t say no, thanks”

Huggy went off to place the order, and they looked at each other, neither sure what to say.

“Guess it’s kinda weird, being here without him?”

“Kinda weird being anywhere without him”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around. You look lopsided today”

Huggy brought their drinks.

“Ying without yang. Pork without beans. Starsky, there’s a lady looking for you”

Before he could say anything, Meredith was at his side.

“They said if you weren’t at the hospital, you’d be here, Sargent. I’ve got some information for you’

Now the gut wrenching, brain sapping panic had lifted, Starsky was conscious of having behaved very badly indeed, and he made a rueful face. He took the file she held out to him and caught her hand in his.

“Sergeant Meredith, I was a complete jerk this morning. Can we start over?”

She released her hand, and looked at him coldly for a long time. Then, quite suddenly, she smiled a glorious, heart stopping smile that lit her serious face like a sunrise. He caught his breath as an unexpected flash of desire shot through him.

‘I guess you had cause. You can have one more chance. After that, it’s best of three falls. And I’ll win”

Before Starsky could reply, Huggy was back with food, and by the time introductions had happened, and plates had been distributed, he had dismissed the faint stirring of his body as an aberration brought on by stress and exhaustion and had moved up so that Meredith could join them in the booth.

“Dd you mind if we talk shop a little, Cal?”

Cal made a “go right ahead” gesture and started on his burger.

“OK, Merry. Hit me”

‘Juvie know who the guardian is- he’s a guy called Train. He runs a string of second hand shops, and he imports small electricals. He also fences. And he also supplies a couple of pimps who cater for the specialist trade. Obviously there’s no proof for the last two, but Juvie know”

“Kids?”

“Kids.”

“Jesus”

“As you say”

“So, we set up a bust”

Meredith looked at him pityingly.

“What will that achieve?”

“We’ll put him away, find the girl who shot Hutch and get the kids out. If you’re right then the kids’ testimony will mean he won’t get out for 25 years”

“You really don’t know anything about working Juvenile, do you? They won’t testify”

“Why the fuck not?”

Meredith shrugged.

“They never do. Scared. Loyal. Both”

“Scared I get. But..loyal?”

“Yeah. Beats me too”

Cal had been sitting quietly attentive through the conversation, and raised his hand.

“Is it OK for me to chip in, or is this strictly police only?”

“Probably should be, but you look more official than we do in that neat little ol’ uniform of yours. Whatcha got?”

“Well, I haven’t always been the fine upstanding public servant you see before you”

Starsky grinned.

“Me neither. Hutch once said you could paper a room with my Juvie record”

Cal didn’t return the smile.

“Let me guess. Shop lifting. Taking and driving away. A bit of vandalism. Fighting. Drunk and disorderly. A bit of dope”

“Yeah”

“Starsky- can I ask you two things? How old were you when you realized that there would be nothing to eat unless you went out and got it?”

“Well, I first lived alone when I was eighteen”

“What’s your earliest memory?”

The picture summoned by the woman at the hospital that morning came back into his mind.

“Sitting on the table in the kitchen with my brother while my mom fried blintzes”

“That’s why you just don’t get these kids’ loyalty to their guardian. You know how old I was when I realized I was responsible for my own dinner? I was five. And my earliest memory is trying to wake my dead mother”

Meredith and Starsky simultaneously reached out to him, silenced by the revelation. He shook his head.

“Don’t worry- it was a long time ago and I’m fine. Well, as fine as anyone with that in his past could be. What I’m saying is that most people have no idea of what goes on in these kids lives - what makes them what they are. You reckon you had a rough childhood, I’m guessing, Starsky. And it sounds as if you were a pretty troubled teenager. But you had somewhere to go where they fed you until you were eighteen, even when you screwed up, and your mom made you blintzes. I was lucky to end up with my version of this Train guy - it could have been a lot worse. He gave me safety and security and the nearest I could get to a family. So of course I went back to him and did all the things he asked me to - even if some of them were..well, let’s say...actually, let’s not say’

He picked up his beer glass and drained it.

“You’re not going to rescue those kids, they don’t think they need rescuing. Anyway, I’m due back at work. Starsky - can we do this again?’

“I’d like that. I’ll call you”

Cal sketched a salute and was gone. Starsky let out his breath with a whoosh, and got up to slide into the booth opposite Meredith.

“I hope you’ve got some ideas, partner, because I’m fresh out”

“Maybe we need to focus on the burglaries. There have been 5 so far. All early morningw. All in the same area. All while the house owner is away. If we knew when the next one was planned, maybe we could follow the perps back to Train and catch him in the act of receiving stolen goods. Then go from there”

Starsky quirked an eyebrow at her.

“I can see several holes in that plan...”

She looked at him under her lashes.

“Well sir, you ARE a Detective First Class and I am only a humble Detective Second Class.....”

If she had been Hutch that would have earned a cuff round the head. He even started to raise his hand to deliver it, but dropped it awkwardly down onto the table instead. Glancing at his watch, he stood up. 

“Right. Let’s get back to the office and do a bit more thinking. Then I’m going to the hospital” 

It was five before Starsky got to the hospital, only to discover that Hutch was back in surgery, having suffered a setback earlier in the afternoon. The staff all told him repeatedly that it was routine, that there was nothing to worry about, that some internal stitches had simply come away. They also told him repeatedly that he was not welcome and to come back in the morning, so eventually he left.

And found himself with nothing to do. He had thought he would be spending the evening hovering, helping Hutch through the first few grim post surgery hours, but now he was at an entirely loose end. He realized that he was very tired, and went home.

An hour later, he was on his second beer and in his bath robe being fobbed off by the hospital again when there was a knock at the door. Ready to repel salesmen, he opened it, and for a moment completely failed to recognize the pigtailed teen leaning against the jam. Then she grinned - and he realized that it was Meredith.

“Merry! What the.....Come in”

She came in, and noticed his robe.

“Were you going to bed? Guess you didn’t get any sleep last night”

“No, I was going to shower. Hang on while I get some clothes on. There’s beer in the icebox, or there’s some wine”

The grin came again, a little appraising this time.

“Don’t get dressed on my account”

That flash of desire again.

“Hey, Merry, do you think you could age up a bit? This..” he made a vague gesture towards her “is a little...weird”

He went to dress, and when he came back, to his relief she had undone the pigtails and taken off the sweat jacket and was on the sofa with a glass of wine looking like herself again.

“I used your pick- hope that’s OK”

“Be my guest. You want to tell me what this is all about?”

“First- how’s your partner? I looked for you at the hospital but they said you’d gone home”

“More surgery, but they say he’s going to be OK”

“That’s rough. Are you OK?’

“I’m not hurt”

“I know. Are you OK?”

He half laughed,

“No. I won’t be til I’ve seen him. Anyway. What’s with the black Little Orphan Annie get up?”

She sipped her wine.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to take your TV and sell it to Train. Then I’m going to tell him I can get him plenty of other stuff and before you know it I’ve got enough information to find the girl who shot your partner and to put him and her away”

“Like hell you are!”

“You got a better idea?”

“No, but....”

“Has to be me. You’re too old, the wrong sex and the wrong sort of ethnic”

He hesitated.

“OK then- but I’m coming along”

“Deal. Now where’s your TV?”

“Why does it have to be mine?”

“Because I don’t have one. Us detectives second class don’t earn enough for colour TVs”

She looked sideways at him, and he laughed.

You’re something else, Merry Meredith! Would you like to stay and eat? I made a pasta sauce yesterday that you’ll renounce your heritage for”

“I’d like that. One of my great grandfathers was Italian”

“None of mine were. Have some more wine while I....”

She put down her glass, stood up and stepped into him.

“It’s early yet and you’re strung out and worried. I reckon I could help with that”

She slid her hands up under his t shirt, and lifted her face to his. Suddenly , kissing her seemed the most natural thing in the world. 

Later they lay in bed, legs entwined, happily languid.

“Thank you”

“What for? It was good for me too”

He grinned. “I do my best”

She moved her head to kiss his shoulder

“It’s a very good best. You feel better?”

“Yeah. You hungry?”

She sat up and swung her legs out of bed.

“You don’t need to eat, you need to sleep. Stay there- I’ll see you tomorrow”

He reached ineffectually to pull her back to bed, but 24 hours on the go and an overload of stress followed by excellent sex pulled him down into a well of dreamless sleep. He didn’t stir as Merry straightened out the bed, tucked the covers round him, kissed him gently on the lips, then showered and dressed and left, taking his TV with her.

Bright and early the next morning Starsky, feeling infinitely better, arrived at Hutch’s room to find him awake, but white and shaking, and vomiting miserably. Three steps across the room, and he took charge.

“It’s OK, nurse, I’ll deal with this - I’m sure you’ve got other stuff to do, and I’m used to it. It’ll be the painkillers- he’s really not good with them. Could you find his doctor and ask him to write up something different? A change usually helps. Come on, buddy, let me sit you up a bit. We’ve been here before, it’ll be over soon”

For fifteen minutes, Starsky had his hands full, then Hutch lay back with a sigh that was half a sob.

“Oh, god, Starsk.....I tried to tell them....’

“You’re just the patient- what do you know? D’you think you’re done?”

“Yeah, think so”

“There’s mouthwash here, then you can have some ice. You really look like shit”

“Thanks. 

Hutch rinsed his mouth and let a spoonful of ice chips melt blissfully on his tongue while he surveyed his friend critically.

‘You, on the other hand, look terrific. What you been doing?”

Starsky grinned.

“A good night’s sleep can work wonders. And.....Do you think another pillow under your elbow would help?”

‘Think it might. ‘And’ what?”

“Oh, nothing. I’ll go beg some”

He was soon back with an armful of pillows and, remembering his own experience, settled Hutch against them as comfortably as he could manage.

‘That better?”

“You’re in the wrong job, buddy, that’s great”

“Dobey did once threaten to transfer me to Rescue. What’re the doctors saying about you?”

“Everything’s fixed. Just rest, time and therapy”

Starsky shuddered.

“They’ll start that today”

“I remember. I’ll try not to call the therapist a motherfucking sadist”

“I was just telling it like it was”

They smiled at each other.

“I’m sorry this happened”

“I know. Tell me what’s going down”

“Sure you want to talk shop? You look like you could use some sleep”

“You’ll be going to work soon, I can sleep then. I want to hear what”s going on. And what “and” was”

“You’re not strong enough for “and”. I’ll tell you the rest though”

For the next half an hour he told the story of the previous day, while Hutch listened and drifted. And if the story contained rather a lot of Cal’s thought provoking insights and Merry’s sharp enthusiasm, that was surely only to be expected. 

At last, Starsky ran out of things to say, just as a medical team approached the door.

“Oops- I need to be off- here come the sadists. Edith’s going to bring in some stuff for you this morning and I reminded her about the applesauce. I’ll be back this evening to tell you the next installment. Or do you want me to stay and talk to them about the painkillers?”

“No, I can do that. Starsk.....”

“Yeah?”

“ ‘And’. Meredith?”

Starsky grinned at him, and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Let’s just say, you take all the time to get well you need. See ya”

Hutch tried to call him back, but he was gone. With a sigh, and feeling very alone, he braced himself for the medical onslaught.

Whistling cheerfully, Starsky bounced into the squad room, and tossed a box of doughnuts on the table. Babcock looked up with a grin.

“Hutch doing OK, then?”

“Yep. Feels like shit, but doing OK”

‘Good to hear”

“Sure is. Meredith in?”

“Said to tell you she’s gone to see Perkowitz. So come on, Starsky. Spill” Babcock made a suggestive gesture, and Starsky grinned.

“I could, Babs, I could. But then I’d have to kill you. To save you from your wife - she doesn’t like you hearing things like that”

He snagged a doughnut, poured coffee, then went to wrestle with his in tray. Hutch’s, he noticed had already been sorted into neat labeled piles, and his filing mountain was gone, for the first time in months. His own was as tall as ever.

He got the files on the burglaries and Hutch’s shooting, and went slowly through them, hoping to find something they had missed, but drew a blank. As usual when he had to work alone, he felt that his brain was struggling to get out of second gear, and he wished Meredith would come back. He was just considering going to find her, when a messenger dropped a note in his in tray.

‘I think I forgot to tell you I’m taking some personal time this pm.Thinking about that pasta sauce and whether you need some help with it. I’ll be round about 8.30. Put a note on your door if you’re busy and don’t want me to knock. Mx”

Starsky couldn’t restrain his spreading grin. He hadn’t been sure whether last night had been a one off or if there was more to come. It seemed he had his answer.

Energized, he finished his in-tray, artistically arranged the filing pile so that a good half of it was on Hutch’s side then went out to patrol their beat to make sure that the bad guys didn’t think they had retired. At six precisely he was bouncing through Hutch’s door, his arms full of paper sacks, to find his friend picking disconsolately at a plate of unidentified grey food. 

“Jesus, partner, don’t eat that! Look what I’ve brought you!’

He unloaded his bags to reveal a container of noodle soup, an egg white omelette and a dish of fresh fruit salad. And hot tea.

“Oh Starsk, I think I love you!”

“I know you love me- who wouldn’t? And I’ve brought you magazines- a garden one, a news one and one you need to keep in the middle-come to think of it, you may not be strong enough for that yet..”

“I’ll be the judge of that! I’m feeling much better”

He was looking much better, Starsky decided, but he wasn’t surprised when he ran out of steam after the soup and a few bites of the omelette.

“You did great- and the fruit’ll keep for later. Just settle back and have some of your tea”

He tidied up, then rearranged the pillows, pleased by Hutch’s relieved smile as the strain on his wound eased.

“That feels so much better- thank you. You’re good at this”

‘How did the therapy go?’

“You mean the motherfucking sadist?”

“That well, huh? Don’t worry, it gets worse”

“You’re a regular ray of sunshine, you know that?”

“So people tell me. Anyway, Blondie, you need to sleep and I need to go”

“Go? Why, where are you....oh. And?’

“Yes, And”

“Starsk, be careful. It may not be the best idea to....”

“Hutch, she’s a good cop and she’s incredible in the sack. What more could a man want from a partner? I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t forget, go easy on those magazines til your arm’s moving easier. Maybe the motherfucking sadist can help”

He sketched a salute and was gone. Hutch knew he was kidding, but that didn’t stop a wave of misery sweeping over him. The thought of someone else in his seat in the Torino was almost unbearable- especially someone who made Starsky bounce and light up like that. He felt old and tired and depleted, and when the nurse came to help him get ready for the night he was brooding and uncooperative, so she went to report to her team leader that Sargent Hutchinson wasn’t doing as well as they hoped.

Starsky was, despite appearances, a very domestic man, so all he needed to do to prepare for the evening was shower and change. His apartment was, as always, immaculate, and he decided against his usual scattering of candles - he had the feeling anything that obvious would earn him an amused raised eyebrow. So he limited his preparations to setting the table and choosing a bottle of wine, then settled on the sofa to watch the news and wait.

By 10 he had to accept that she wasn’t coming. He got up and went to cook himself some pasta, not sure what to feel. He felt unsettled and anxious, worried that she had somehow come to harm, then laughed at himself. “It’s just because you’ve never been stood up before” he told himself firmly “your pride’s taken a hit. Hutch would say it’ll do you good”

And Hutch did indeed say that when he swung by to visit and deliver whole-wheat muffins the following morning.

“So she saw sense, huh? The idea of your cooking and your animal passions on the same evening lost their charms when she had time to think?”

“Guess you’re feeling better if you’re back in asshole mode. Like yesterday it was all I love you Starsk, you know how to make me feel better Starsk and now.....”

“Yeah well, that was before I discovered you prefer a partner you can fuck........”

They stared at each other wide eyed, disconcertingly on the verge of a quarrel, until Starsky flung himself to his feet.

“See you tonight”  
“Only if you can spare the time!”

By the time he was in the car on the way to work, his flash of temper had vanished, and he was reproaching himself. He knew the spirit sapping misery of hospital routine and pain and helplessness. And he knew how easily Hutch was knocked off balance by being out of control - it had been much too early for teasing. He needed at least another day, probably two, of reassurance and nurture before normal service could be resumed. And he needed to meet Merry, sooner rather than later. Maybe they could take lunch in to the hospital........He suddenly remembered last night. Shit. Perhaps Hutch was right about mixing business with pleasure. Oh well, no point putting it off.

Except there was nothing to put off. She was not there. Hutch’s desk was exactly as it had been when he left the day before. No bag or coat. No messages. Neither Dobey nor Perkowitz had seen her. No answer from her apartment. 

At first, the rest of the squad room were inclined to take it as a bit of a joke. They liked Starsky, but his apparently effortless success with women was a source of mixed exasperation and jealousy and they were not going to pass up an opportunity to rag. Starsky took it with his usual good humor, but as the day wore on, the sense of uneasiness grew. Eventually, Starsky could sit still no longer.

“Gonna go round her place - see if I can find anything out. Tell Dobey if he asks. Then I’m visiting with Hutch. See you tomorrow”

Hutch was having a typical busy boring hospital day. His surgeon had come in several times with groups of colleagues, all keen to examine him and discuss his injury over his head. Edith Dobey’s motherly hugs and little tupperware boxes of treats consoled him more than he cared to admit, then he had sweated through physical therapy and blushed at the over attentive nurses rushing to meet his every need. And missed Starsky with a pain that was nearly physical. Lunchtime raised- then dashed-his hopes, and he determinedly closed his eyes and forced himself to go to sleep. When he had been sick or hurt before, sometimes when he woke up.......

Not this time. He woke up to a cheerful, non New York voice 

‘Hutch? You awake?’

He was, but he pretended not to be, hoping the visitor would go away. 

“Well, if you’re not, you should be, or you won’t sleep tonight. Come on, wake up’

He opened one eye to see the dark red hair and green eyes of his friend Jace.

“Hi. Sorry I haven’t been up to see you before-my ward’s a bit busy at the moment. How are you doing?”

“Shit”

“Really? The nurses say you’re grumpy as hell, but doing great in the circumstances. You want to sit up? Let me help” 

Before he could object, he had been skillfully rearranged in the bed, and given a cup of strong, hot, non hospital coffee. 

“Where’s Starsky? I expected him to be doing his human comfort blanket routine”

Hutch shrugged, then wished he hadn’t.

“Don’t know. Better things to do”

His mouth drooped, and Jace’s soft heart melted. But he had been the pair’s friend for a long time, and Hutch’s even longer, and knew when a bit of briskness was needed. 

“So you were a dick and he slammed the door on the way out? I swear to God, one of these days I’m going to handcuff the pair of you and drag you to a relationship counselor.” He picked up the notes at the end of the bed and raised his eyebrows “Do you want me to translate this into English?”

‘Yes, please. My surgeon’s been in about 6 times with most of his colleagues- it’s making me nervous” 

Jace scanned the file, then his eyebrows shot up and he whistled silently.

“Jesus- I’m not surprised he’s keen to show off. I know it’s not what your dad meant when he wanted you to be the talk of the Country Club, but if Mr Hanson asks you to caddy for him stark naked I suggest you just say ‘yes sir, what day?’”

“Why”

“Because calls don’t come much closer. A bit of luck with the angle of the bullet, good first aid, excellent first response, then absolutely fucking miraculous surgery. And here you are, two days later, well enough to be a pain in the ass”

Hutch looked, wide eyed, at Jace, taking it in. Then he grabbed at his hand.

“Jace, please can you go now, this minute, now, and ring Starsky? Tell him I’m sorry and ask him to come and see me? Try home and work. Leave messages if he’s not there”

“I will, of course, but.....”

“Now, please”

“This is me, going. See you in ten”

Hutch leant back, reeling from the revelation. He remembered what it was like to have his partner’s blood pulsing out against his fingers, the paralyzing panic and then the agony of waiting for news. And while Starsky was still processing that, he had laid his petulant jealousy on him. No wonder he hadn’t visited. No wonder.....

“I left messages. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.....hey, hey, buddy, what’s wrong?”

Hutch could only shake his head-knowing that words would bring tears. Suddenly Jace saw past the battle hardened street cop to the ridiculously blond, sweet faced fresher he had first met more than 15 years ago, squaring his jaw against the taunting of his dorm mates, determined not to give them more ammunition - and reached out to touch his hand.

“You haven’t got an IV- have they found oral painkillers that work for you this time? You’re not refusing them, are you?”

“You know why I have to”

“I know why you think you have to and that’s not the same thing. When I’ve finished dragging you to the relationship counselor, I’ll drag you to someone who can sort out your screwed up relationship with analgesia. In the mean time, you’re going to take something now, whether you like it or not. I’ll see to that, and ask them to bring you a phone so you can call Starsky later. Then you can tell me what you said to each other”  
Fifteen minutes later, he was shaking his head and laughing affectionately at his friend.

“Oh, Hutch, you know he’s forgotten all that. Or you would know if you weren’t 48 hours post surgery, feeling like shit and with all your emotions on the surface”

“Then why isn’t he here?”

“Work. This woman. He’ll be here, I guarantee it. Now shall we watch a bit of TV together until they bring your dinner and my shift starts?”

They watched TV in companionable silence until Hutch’s dinner arrived. Jace stood up and stretched. 

“Got to go back to work. If you want me, call my pager, and I’ll come as soon as I can. Take the painkillers and don’t worry, he’ll be around soon”

He squeezed Hutch hand and left him to his grey chicken.

The next day, Jace was just washing his hands and stretching his back after clinic, when his assistant came to find him.

“Dr Broadhurst, you have an urgent message from a Ken Hutchinson- could you go and see him at once?”

Jace glanced at his watch. 

‘OK. I’m supposed to be at the Departmental Heads meeting at 12. If I’m not back, call and give my apologies”

He took off his white coat, put on his jacket and headed for the stairs. Whistling cheerfully, he opened Hutch’s door, and stopped short, horrified.

Hutch was standing, swaying, by the cupboard, sorting through the clothes hanging there. 

“Jace- help me, I’ve got to get out of here”

Jace’s momentarily paralysis over, he was across the room and taking Hutch’s arm.

“Don’t be a fool, you’ll kill yourself, get back to bed. Whatever you need to do, I’ll do”

“Yeah? What are you going to do to a pimp and a kidnapper - strangle him your stethoscope? Just help me get dressed, goddam it!”

“Hutch. Take a moment. Tell me what’s happened”

“Starsky hasn’t been seen since yesterday afternoon. Meredith since the day before”

“That’s worrying, but......”

“But nothing. Áre you going to help me get dressed or not?”

“No I’m fucking not. And if you don’t get back into bed, I’m going to call security”

“Then I’ll discharge myself. I have the right”

“And how far do you think you”ll get? Hutch, there’s a whole damn police department out there. What do you think you can do?”

“Your job is helping people! Help me!”

“I took an oath, man. Do no harm. I am not going to let you kill yourself”

They stared furiously at each other, then all at once, Hutch gave in. With a half sob, he drooped and let Jace help him back to bed.

“Now, talk”

“Meredith didn’t show at work yesterday. And Starsky’s not there this morning. Dobey called to see if he was here”

“It’s only 11, man. And you said he and Meredith got a thing going. Sounds like they overslept”

“That’s what Dobey said”

“He worried?”

“No. Mad. Says the same as you”

“There you are, see?”

“Yeah, here I am. You know what happened the last time Dobey said that? I ended up this close to feeding the sharks strung out on heroin. And you helped pick up the pieces. You know what happened’

“But that was different.....

“Great. Thank you. Different. Fuck off, Jace. You won’t help me? Then just fuck off” 

Hutch turned his face away, and Jace hesitated, torn, then stood up.

“Fair enough. Page me if you need me”

Hutch closed his eyes and tried to dismiss the images that plagued his mind of Starsky, hurt, helpless, trapped, needing him. He knew, with absolute certainty that his partner was in trouble. If anyone had asked him how he knew, he couldn’t have answered. But he knew.

He swung his legs out of the bed again. He reckoned he had about a half hour before the next bit of hospital routine. He was quite prepared to battle his way out, but he didn’t have the energy to spare for a struggle. 

Edith had hung things in the cupboard the day before, chatting about comfort and ease, and he was glad to see his old green warm up suit. It was a favourite, and he put it on the bed obscurely comforted by its familiarity.

There was a tap on the door, and a slight man in a paramedic uniform put this head round

“Detective Hutchinson? I’m Cal Anderson- did Dave tell you......what are you doing?”

“Dave’s in trouble-he needs me. I’m splitting. Wanna help me?”

“Sure”

“What?”

“Sure I’ll help you. What do you want me to do?”

“You got a car?”

“Yep” 

“OK. Help me get to it, then I’ll tell you more”

Cal hesitated, then said.

“Sit down a minute. I’ll get a wheelchair. A paramedic can push a guy in wheelchair anywhere. Wait til I get back and I’ll help you dress”

He was back in a moment to find Hutch on the phone.

“Let me speak to Sergeant Simmons- Hi, Sim, Hutch. Yeah, doing great, thanks. No, I haven’t, but you know what he’s like, and I hear she’s quite something....really? Well, I’m sure I’ll hear all about it. Sim- can you do me a favour? I’ve had an idea about the our burglaries. Could you look in the file and get me an address for a guy called Train? Yeah, Train. As in railroad. Thanks. I’ll hold..... 1479 Catalina. Thanks. Yeah - it would be good to see you. Maybe tomorrow? Thanks again”

Hutch looked up to find Cal looking at him levelly.

You reckon Train’s got Dave?”

“Help me dress. Yes. And Meredith.”

“Hang on- I’m going to use your sling straps to immobilize your arm- then put your jacket over the top with the sleeve tucked in. That might hurt a bit less. You had any painkillers recently?”

‘Yes- I got a shot earlier. We need to hurry”

“No point hurrying so much you pass out. You’re the one who knows what he’s doing. I’m just the’ - he grinned suddenly- “magician’s assistant”

In a surprisingly short time, Hutch was dressed and being wheeled briskly down the corridor, fast enough to deter conversation, not so fast as to attract comment. He wanted to tell Cal to run- that it was a matter of life and death, that every second might make a difference. But he managed to control himself, to slow his breathing and calm his whirring mind. His chest hurt fiercely despite the shot, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. He had to get this right first time. Whatever this turned out to be.

‘OK, here’s the car. Where are we going? 1479 Catalina?”

“Can you use a gun?”

“Christ, no”

“We won’t bother stopping to get you one then. Yes, get close- it’s about 15 minutes away”

“I know it”

Cal put the car into drive and set off. Hutch mentally ground his teeth and added another 15 minutes to their ETA.

“What are we going to do?” 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but you’re going to drop me and head home”

“The hell I am. I may not be much use, but three hands are better than one”

“Why?”

“Two reasons. Did Starsky tell you that I was like one of Train’s kids?”

“Yeah”

“That. And...”Cal glanced sideways at Hutch’s white, tense face and knotted neck muscles... “I got a partner too. We may not get shot at, but we do run into places everyone else is running out of. There’s nobody I trust more to have my back. And I love him. So I reckon I know what you’re going through”

He reached out to touch Hutch’s shoulder, and he had to resist the urge to bat the hand away, despite the relief Carl’s understanding brought him. It was all wrong - cool and slim with well tended nails. It should be square and warm, probably with a band aid or two....His fear for Starsky almost overwhelmed him. What if he was too late? What would he do? With an almost physical effort he pushed the fear down.

“Where’s your partner now?”

“Back East, visiting with his folks” Again that sideways grin. “He’s from New York. Name of Zay”

“Both of us stuck with East Coasters, huh?

The road ahead cleared.

“Put your foot down, Cal- I’ll flash my badge if I need to”

Cal put his foot down, then glanced at Hutch again.

“Did Starsky tell you about my sister?”

“No?”

“Well, she’s my step sister, really. Nearly 20 years younger than me. Last I heard, she’d got caught up in a lot of bad stuff. Promised my step mom I’d keep an eye out. Heard she’d got in with a guardian round here- thought about knocking on a few doors....”

Hutch did a double take and dragged a bit of his mind back to normal police work

“Well, when this is over, come in and we’ll .......”

Cal grinned at him.

“Hutch- I haven’t got a sister”

Hutch knew that there was absolutely no way that he should be involving Cal in the situation. No way at all. He would get Cal to drop him, and send him home, with instructions to ring HQ and tell whoever answered to organize him some back up.....

“Maybe if you did that, I could have a look round the back’

“That’s what I was thinking. You up to it?”

The look he got silenced him without the need for words, and he concentrated on driving. He had the feeling that in some way his driving was not measuring up. 

“OK, this is it. Pull in on the corner. I’m going to walk down the road and take a look. Go round the block and wait for me at the end.”

“You sure, man? You stand out a bit in this neighborhood”

“There’s nobody about. I’ll be fine”

Cal shrugged, and did what he was told.

Ten minutes later, Hutch was slumped back in his seat. Cal dug out a bottle of water, and handed it to him.

“I’ve got extra strength Tylenol.....”

Hutch laughed without humour

“Not unless you want me to puke all over the car. No, I’m fine. Now listen. There are people in the house, and there’s a car outside with Starsky’s jacket in back. I reckon it’s Meredith’s car. They went on some damn fool private private party and it went wrong. I swear to god, when I get my hands on him.....’

Cal quirked an eyebrow at him

“What do you think he’s going to do to you when he hears about THIS private party, huh?” 

Hutch was about to snap a response then reluctantly grinned

“Might be useful to have a paramedic as a temporary partner.....’

“That reminds me”

Cal scrambled over into the back of the car, pulled open a gym bag and began to change into sweats.

“Won’t your uniform help keep you safe? Everybody respects a paramedic”

‘Hutch, for experienced cops, you and Starsky really are virgins in these woods. Round here, they won’t see a paramedic. They’ll see a black guy in a white guy’s uniform. Right, how do you want to play this?”

As it turned out, it was surprisingly simple. On his first recce round the back of the house, he saw Starsky, tied to a chair, And tied to another chair, a black woman with pigtails. Meredith. And obviously undercover. For a second, Hutch was overcome with rage. How could they have been so stupid! Then he spotted Train, holding a gun steadily aimed at the two officers . And the girl who had shot him, also armed, but agitatedly arguing. Hutch fixed his eyes on Starsky, focussing on him until he looked up. Their eyes met, Starsky still poker faced. Hutch held up two fingers, then signaled to the waiting Cal. A minute later, the doorbell rang insistently, momentarily distracting. A kick from Hutch’s boot flung the door open, Meredith’s legs shot out to trip the girl, sending her gun flying, and a single shot from Hutch’s Python dropped Train just as he was bringing his weapon to bear on Starsky. 

A beat, while Hutch leant against the wall, weary beyond measure. Cal appeared, and stood, hesitating in the doorway, not sure what to do first.

“Before you do anything else, pick up those guns. Carefully, by the butt- the safetys will be off.” His voice sounded as if it came from a million miles away, and the room faded in and out. He felt hot and cold at the same time, and there was something worryingly wet running down his chest. But there was Starsky, alive and well, and being untied, and grinning at him with that full on, knock ‘em dead grin that he had thought he might never see again.

“Hey, buddy, what kept you?”

He couldn’t stay upright any longer, and began to slide down the wall, gesturing towards Cal.

“You’d...... better ask my.... partner”


End file.
